Libby kept her eyes closed and pretended to sleep. Perhaps they would not drug her if they thought she still slept.
“False alarm, looks like she’s out again.”
“Good. This has been easy so far. I want to keep it that way.”
“What do you suppose Crow will do with her if that brother of hers doesn’t get those old scrolls from that Avalon Society for him?”
“What else can he do? She’s the sister to an Earl who is a prominent member of the Avalon Society and Society at large. She comes from a well known, well respected family. He hasn’t made his plans known to me, but Mr. Crow has two options if he does not receive the scroll, sell her to the slavers or kill her.”
Libby realized upon hearing those words that she must get away. She tried to stay awake and alert, though she could not. Libby drifted back into a restless slumber.
This time upon awakening, she remembered not to open her eyes. If she could make it long enough without laudanum being forced down her again, she might have the strength to get away. What were these scrolls the men mentioned? Did it have something to do with the Avalon Society? Perhaps it involved their find in Glastonbury?
“Wake up, gel,” a deep, raspy voice commanded. “Wake up!”
She felt rough hands on her arms. The man shook her. She felt suddenly dizzy and ill. Her stomach knotted up. This time Libby did open her eyes. She fought the nausea that threatened her as she was roughly pulled to a sitting position.
The light nearly blinded her. It took some long minutes before she could fully open her eyes without feeling pain. She was in a carriage. Two men were with her. Oddly enough, both were dressed in long, worn, brown coats. Her throat felt so dry. “May I have some water?” she croaked.
“Ain’t got no water. I’ve got some Gin. You can have a swig of that.”
“No.” She grimaced and shook her head.
“Suit yerself. We’ll stop up ahead. I’ll get down and get you something to drink and eat.”
“I’ve need of some privacy. To take care of necessities,” Libby’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
“We’ll get a private room. We can’t take any chances. We’ll stop for a half hour. We need to make Andover by early afternoon.”
Libby gave the man a curt nod.
The larger of the two men took hold of her arm otherwise she could not stand without weaving. It was an effort to walk. Her limbs felt so heavy, like lead. Libby’s head pounded, she felt weak and nauseous. They were led into a dingy parlour that held a musty odor. The food wasn’t fresh or tasty, but she ate a few bites because she knew she must. Libby hoped the food would absorb some of the drugs, and give her more strength. She drank a full glass of water. All the while her mind raced. She must find a way to escape these men!
The two men stepped outside the room to allow her privacy while she washed her face and took care of the necessities. Her hair had long since fallen from its pins and hung in an unkempt mess down her back. There might be one or two pins left in her tangled hair, but not enough to put it back up. Besides, she currently did not possess the strength or the desire to try and tidy it. She realized she had no balance. Libby clung to the screen while using the chamber pot. The effort to stand and adjust her clothing left her light-headed and unsteady on her feet. She refused to call out to those horrible men to assist her.
She could find nothing in the room to use as a weapon. The maid cleared the dishes and utensils from the room earlier. She must escape! How? How? She prayed that she would find help and soon. She remembered Archangel Michael was the protector angel. She prayed to him to help her escape these men on her own, or for someone to assist her, to help her get away. That would actually be better, she pointed out to the angel in her prayer. At present she found it difficult to walk on her own. Running away from anyone at this point was probably out of the question.
Their next stop was Andover, which was where she would be turned over to this Mr. Crow. The one Cobley and Rawson said would kill her or sell her into slavery. She must find a way to save herself before being turned over to that man!
She wondered if Owen and Charlie were trying to find her. Could they find her? Had these men left a trail? She prayed Owen and Charlie were indeed searching for her; that they were close to finding her.
A knock sounded on the door. “Hurry it up.”
“I’m finished.” As an afterthought she added. “I am feeling ill, can you help me?” It was best for them to think her incapable of escaping. She clung to the screen weakly until the one called Cobley came to get her.
When the carriage reached the White Hart in Andover, Libby found it encouraging that the inn was in a fairly busy location.
“Don’t say a word, Missy. I’ll cut your throat, and don’t think I won’t. You behave real nice like and don’t say one word. It’s straight up the stairs you’re going until your benefactor arrives.”
“Who is my benefactor?” Libby asked.
“That is no concern of yours.”
Libby tried to catch the eye of the stable lads, then the attention of a gentleman exiting the White Hart and was unsuccessful. None paid her any notice. No doubt a gentleman would not even concern himself with her, appearing as she did in a dirty, crumpled gown, hair a tangle down her back, and in such low company. The realization struck her that she might even be thought to be a harlot. Was she doomed? No! She could not be. Someone would help her. She willed it to be so. Again she prayed. Archangel Michael, please, please help me! She tried to think of a solution. She must find an opportunity to free herself from these men. Libby knew she could not walk up those stairs and be given to that man, Mr. Crow. Help me, Archangel Michael! I need you now!
When they entered the main room, the man beside her roughly took her arm and pulled her along. Libby tried to break his grasp. She noted immediately there were a few patrons in the public room. She must try to get someone’s attention.
It was to her advantage there were so few in the room for it was quiet enough it seemed their entrance did indeed attract several curious stares.
“I told you to get her up the stairs quickly, Cobley! She’s causing a scene. If you can’t control her, I’ll get her up there myself.”
The man called Rawson reached out to grab her upper arm.
“Get your hand off me!” Libby spat loudly. She realized then a man was gazing directly at her. A gentleman! He seemed familiar to her. He noticed her. Oh my God! She knew him. It was one of Owen’s friends. And he recognized her! She was saved!
Chapter Two
White Hart Inn, Andover, Hampshire May, 1834
Micah Wychcombe, Viscount Wincanton, left his room to go downstairs to the public room where he would meet his traveling companion, Jonathan “Jack” Drayton, the Earl of Elveston. They would eat dinner and discuss their plans for the next day’s journey. They talked about going to Glastonbury for a day before returning to Templecombe to let Harry Bellingham, Lord Glaston, know what they found out on their three week journey. They would discuss it over dinner. Both of them were travel weary and wished to get to their homes. They could just as easily send Harry a letter. Yet, a day’s visit with Harry and Rowena did appeal to Micah. He hadn’t seen them in five weeks since he left Glastonbury.
Micah and Jack were returning from a nearly three week long trip north to try and find the trail of one Percy Davitt. Davitt recently caused a lot of trouble for the Avalon Society in Glastonbury, and he posed a danger to them remaining free as he was.
It was miraculous the man even lived after he tried to steal the sacred treasures found in Glastonbury. It remained a mystery to the entire Avalon Society how Percy Davitt escaped Stonedown Manor with the grave injuries he received. Even with the help of one Amelia Whitely and her carriage, Davitt still was gravely wounded. Micah and Jack guessed he and Mrs. Whitley were now hiding somewhere in Scotland. His trail disappeared completely at Newcastle. They spent days there trying to find anyone who might have seen him or the lady he traveled wi
th when they left The Grey Swan Inn. The two men scoured a dozen towns nearby and in Scotland without finding anyone who saw Davitt or Amelia Whitely after their departure from Newcastle.
The pair returned to London. They spent three nights there and now were on their way back to Micah’s home, Horethorne Hall, in Templecombe, after possibly spending tomorrow night in Glastonbury. Elveston would then go on to his home in Dorset from Horethorne Hall after a couple days of much needed rest.
Micah took a table, after he ordered a pint of the White Hart’s finest ale. He sat waiting for Jack. There were only two gentlemen and a couple of some means in the room. It was mid afternoon. He took another sip of the ale. The brew was good. He was happy to sit in a chair and not upon a horse. Yes, the brew was fine enough for a bone-weary traveler such as him. He rubbed his thigh. It ached. His wound, a rifle shot he received in Glastonbury last month, still pained him. No doubt three weeks on the road on horseback hadn’t helped the healing process.
He looked forward to returning to Horethorne Hall. Not that there was much there for him but his personal research at Cadbury Hill, and the Greek scrolls found recently in Glastonbury, waiting to be interpreted. But it was home and he reasoned his thigh definitely needed the rest.
He was weary of travel. He spent over two weeks in Glastonbury in April. He remained at home a little over a week. For three weeks in May he and Jack were on and off the Great Northern Road, scouring northern England for the elusive Percy Davitt.
Micah truly did not mind searching for Davitt. Rowena, Harry Bellingham, Lord Glaston’s, new wife, deserved to be at peace, where Percy Davitt was concerned. Micah became attached to Rowena in Glastonbury; in fact they became close friends. Quite honestly, there was nothing Micah would not do for Rowena. Since Harry could not leave his wife, mother and sister at Abbey Grange while they might still be in danger to search for Davitt; Micah and Elveston volunteered to see if they could find him.
Micah made the decision in Glastonbury that he would no longer live the life of a recluse. For the past seven years Micah closed himself off from being much in company. Since his beloved wife Lucy and their son died during the birth, he did not desire to be among society.
He was privileged to watch Harry and Rowena fall madly in love with one another while in Glastonbury. Rowena was a scholar, beautiful and the perfect match for Harry. Micah realized he wanted the perfect woman, the perfect match for a wife for himself. After the seven long years since Lucy died, he wanted a companion suited for him. For, as much as he loved Lucy, their union had not been ideal. He loved her, nonetheless.
Micah prayed to the Archangel Michael in the tower of St. Michael atop the mysterious and magical Glastonbury Tor for assistance in finding the perfect woman and wife who would fit into his life. Micah wished for a woman who would happily share her life with him. Absently he touched his coat pocket where he always carried the snow white feather he found at his feet after praying to the Angel in the tower.
Aside from visiting his grandfather, Lord Chilcompton, he and Jack attended two social gatherings while in London. Micah already knew the perfect woman for him could not be found in the ballrooms of London. The women he met there reminded him of his first wife, Lucy. They were set to land a wealthy, titled gentleman to find their place, and make their mark in society. Micah wanted to find his soul mate. He would prefer an intellectual equal. He wanted a love match.
Being among society again only confirmed that he would not find the woman he searched for in London. Once he returned to Templecombe, he would reintroduce himself into the local society.
He planned to travel to Devon in two weeks to visit with his friends, Charlie Inwood, Lord Silverley and Owen Darrington, The Earl of Fitzlewis.
More importantly he would be able to spend time with Lord Fitzlewis’ younger sister, Lady Elizabeth. The two of them always rubbed along together very well when Micah visited Devon. Truly the only young lady whom he felt an attraction to in the past years was Owen’s younger sister. He found her lovely, quite sweet and extremely intelligent. Micah did not know how she felt about him, however. He only knew he was attracted to her. If the visit produced no results, Harry told him in his letter three weeks ago that his wife, Rowena, was chomping at the bit to do some matchmaking for him.
Micah rather hoped Lady Elizabeth held a tendre for him, for he thought of her often recently. He found himself eager to be in her company again.
Lady Elizabeth Darrington was tall, slender, graceful and physically active. Her hair was dark and her eyes were the color of sapphires. He remembered her lips were more red than pink, for at first he suspected she rouged them. But spending an entire two weeks at Roseland Abbey with her brother Owen and his friend, Charlie, Lord Silverley, six months ago, Micah realized her lips were just that color naturally.
What he most liked about Lady Elizabeth was her intelligence. She possessed a keen mind and enjoyed expanding her knowledge. She loved history and seemed very much interested in whatever the Avalon Society was investigating. He rather liked her smile too.
She was genuine, sincere, just “Libby” as her brother called her. She possessed no womanly wiles, nor did she use the machinations so commonly used by many women in society. She was merely happy, sweet, friendly, smart Libby. Oh, Micah found her physically beautiful! He remembered when once in her company, he wondered what it might feel like to have her long legs wrapped around him while he moved inside her. He remembered the incident distinctly, for since Lucy’s death, he rarely thought about such things. It surprised him at the time. So much so, he promptly excused himself from her company and took a long walk alone in the wood near Roseland Abbey to clear his head of such musings.
He took another sip of ale. Where was Elveston?
Slightly raised voices at the entrance to the inn suddenly drew his attention.
“I told you get her up the stairs quickly, Cobley! She’s causing a scene. If you can’t control her I’ll get her up there myself.” The man roughly grabbed a tall, slender woman’s arm.
Micah noticed the two very lower class, and rough looking individuals escorting a pale young woman. Her dark hair fell in a tumble down her back and she wore a wrinkled, but finely cut, blue gown. It was the gown of a lady, as was her regal bearing. She seemed vaguely familiar, though he had only a quick glimpse of her before her loose hair fell to cover the side of her face.
He watched as the woman pulled her arm from the man who held on to her. The hair that previously hid her features was thrown back with the movement. “Get your hand off me!” She spoke with the disdain and hauteur of a well bred young lady. Her voice sounded familiar as well. Very familiar.
Micah watched as the young woman noticed him. She stared at him. He saw her sapphire eyes widen as she recognized him. At the very same moment, Micah realized the woman was Owen’s sister, Lady Elizabeth!
“Lord Wincanton, Help me! Please!”
He rose instantly. He knew something was terribly wrong. He could feel it. Crackles of energy raced along his shoulders. By the look of relief lighting Lady Elizabeth’s beautiful features, Micah knew she needed his help.
“Lady Elizabeth! Where is your brother?” He rushed to her. He reached out and took the man by the arm who tried to push her back out the door.
“You’ve made a mistake, guv,” the shorter of the two men said.
“There has been no mistake.” Micah removed a pistol from his coat and held it to the man’s head. The man stilled instantly.
“Lord Wincanton, I’ve been kidnapped!” Lady Elizabeth wrenched her arm away from the man. She slammed the heel of one half boot upon the toe of the other and rushed the few steps to Micah. Unsteady as she was, she literally fell against him. His free arm wrapped around her. He held her tightly against him to steady her.
Micah quickly pushed her behind him. “Hold on to me tightly, Lady Elizabeth.” He felt Lady Elizabeth’s hands clinging to his coat at his back. She leaned heavily against him.
“Inn
keeper, sir, send for the constable at once!” Micah commanded.
The sound of a pistol cocking behind Micah drew his attention. He heard a familiar voice. It was Elveston. “I’ve got your back, Wincanton!”
Both kidnappers turned and fled. They ran toward a carriage in the yard, shouting to the driver as they did. They jumped into the conveyance and it shot out of the courtyard with a lurch, turning wildly onto the street. Micah realized at that moment that both men wore long brown coats. Coincidence? Or were they connected to the ring of criminals who caused them so much trouble in Glastonbury?
Jack rushed up to Micah and Lady Elizabeth.
Lady Elizabeth was safely encircled in Micah’s arms. “Thank God I found you here! Lord Wincanton, thank you for helping me. Lord Elveston, thank you.”
“Were there only two of them, Lady Elizabeth?” Elveston asked.
She nodded.
Micah held her tightly. He already knew her to be weak and unsteady on her feet. She wasn’t hysterical. But she trembled and occasionally a sob escaped her. He thought he saw the glimmer of a tear begin to roll down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. She gazed up at him. Her blue eyes reminded him of the rich blue color of the Glastonbury sapphire. He’d always liked Lady Elizabeth’s eyes. Deep blue pools.
“Are you well, Lady Elizabeth? Did they harm you? Do you need a doctor?” Micah and Jack barraged her with questions.
Her face was now resting against Micah’s chest. His hands gently rubbed her back to comfort her.
“I think I am unharmed. Mostly I was frightened. I am relieved now. They drugged me. I don’t remember anything before waking today. I’m not very steady. I feel rather ill.”
“Stay here with Lady Elizabeth, Micah. I’ll go try to track down those two buggars.”
“No. I can’t stay here! They were to deliver me to someone here at this inn tonight! A Mr. Crow.” Libby panicked. She clung tighter to Lord Wincanton. She looked up entreatingly at him. He smelled faintly of sandalwood and leather. It smelled very good to her. She could hear the pounding of his heart beneath his coat as she once again leaned her aching head against his chest. It was an effort to do anything else. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart as her cheek lay against him.
Lords of Honor Page 2
